Confide in Me
by graphitewarrior
Summary: Who put Mario in charge of picking roommates? Little Mac knows almost nothing about his roommate, and he doesn't even try to learn anything. Following their meeting in the Smash tournament, he finds maybe it's better to get to know people other than Doc Louis. No pairing, one-shot. / 4-18: Updated for accuracy.


_"You can confide in me."_

That's what was written on the postcard from his roommate that he had received the week before the start of the tournament. Actually, it was the _only_ sentence that was legible on the card. His roommate's handwriting had been smeared in transit, and he couldn't make out the name or address or anything that had been written on the card aside from that sentence. There wasn't even a picture attached; that must have been lost as well. His roommate was going to be a complete mystery.

_Hopefully, whoever it is will be easy to get along with,_ Little Mac thought. It was the first time he was participating in the Smash tournament, and he wanted his experience to go well. He barely knew anyone listed in the brochure as a participant aside from all of his older friends: R. O. B., Mr. Game and Watch, Link, and of course, Mario. Apparently, Mario was in charge of roommate selection and many other aspects of the tournament. Mac hoped that Mario had put him together with someone he knew. Maybe someone who didn't have to talk to get along with him; none of those old friends were much for talking. Some of them couldn't even talk at all. That was Mac's ideal situation. He just wanted to train and win; he wasn't really here to make friends. But when Mac got to the mansion and met his roommate, his hopes of having a silent roommate were shattered.

His roommate had to be from another planet, or maybe he was from the future or something. He was wearing the strangest set of red and black clothes, and there was a futuristic, oversized red sword strapped to his back. He was of equal height to Mac, looked to be about the same age, and he had platinum blond hair. Despite the kid's friendly smile and outstretched hand, Mac continued to feel uneasy. The guy introduced himself: "I'm Shulk. Mario told me that you're a famous boxer. It's nice to meet you, Mac."

_How'd he already know to call me just "Mac?"_ the boxer wondered. "My pleasure," he replied, somewhat sarcastically.

Shulk continued, "I'm a Homs from Colony 9 on the Bionis. The Bionis a huge, dead lifeform, whereas this planet seems to be…well, not a former living thing." He paused awkwardly and continued, "Anyhow, everything is very different in this world, and so I'm very excited for this tournament."

Mac nodded silently in agreement, though he couldn't help noting that living on top of a giant living thing sounded kind of weird. He wondered what a Homs was—Shulk certainly looked human. His planet probably had another word for humans.

"Which bed would you like?" Shulk asked, looking at the tiny room in which they stood. Nearly every room had bunk beds in it to economize on space, but there were still separate closets.

Mac dropped his stuff next to the bottom bunk of the bed. He unzipped his suitcase and removed his favorite pair of green gloves. He wanted to get out of here. The guy was already too talkative for his taste, and training was more important. "Gotta go."

"Well... Okay, then. If you need anything, Mac, you can confide in me."

_Of course. The postcard, _Mac recalled. _But I'm not about to share my life story with you._

When Mac returned to the room from training at two a. m., way past the accepted curfew, he woke up Shulk despite his efforts to remain as surreptitious as possible. "Sorry," Mac whispered as he heard Shulk's heavy breathing stop.

"I'm kind of a light sleeper," he said groggily. "It's fine. Where were you? Curfew was three and a half hours ago."

"Training."

"Come to think of it, I didn't even see you at dinner."

"I ate at quarter of eight."

"That explains it. Well, I'm going to go back to sleep; good night." Mac slipped off his boxing gloves and stripped to his boxers before sliding under the covers. He stared at the blank wall angrily. Doc Louis was staying at a hotel nearby because there was only space in the mansion to accommodate the fighters. Mac missed Doc. Just having Doc around while he was training made him feel better, as if there were someone who understood him and "got" his passion for boxing. And he could tell Doc almost anything. Momentarily forgetting that someone else was in the room with him, Mac sighed heavily.

Shulk stirred in the bed above him. Mac stared at the indentation where Shulk lay on the bed. "You all right down there?" he said.

Mac said nothing. Shulk turned over in the top bunk. _I just wish I had someone here that I could tell anything to, _Mac thought. _Mario's the kindest guy here, but he's not Doc. This guy, on the other hand, he's just... weird._ He resolved to try to avoid his roommate whenever possible.

Shulk and Mac slept for six hours until all of the fighters were rudely awakened the next day by an alarm. It was his second day here and his routine was getting interrupted; he and Doc would have slept at least two more hours after a late night of training. Reluctantly, he got out of bed and walked to the bathrooms for a shower.

He sped through breakfast before he quickly returned to the training room. He hadn't seen anyone else down there yet, and he was enjoying the isolation. He was just a solitary, introverted person in general. Even Doc respected that part of Mac's personality and knew when to keep his distance.

Mac thought about the upcoming first round of matches. They started tomorrow. He didn't have to train, but he surely wanted to. It distracted him from the fact that he had a weird, possibly-alien roommate who was being too nice to him. It had to be some kind of filthy trick, a strategy. When they met in battle, Shulk would have him fooled into going easy on him because of his cheerful personality. _Not gonna work, kid,_ Mac thought. _Nothing'll stop me from becoming the Smash Champion!_

Mac and Shulk's friendship was still almost nonexistent when the random selection pitted them against each other in the second match of the first round. Mac still spent most of his time training alone, and Shulk was forced to socialize aboveground in the mansion. They didn't see each other except at night, and Mac avoided talking to him. Now they would be pitted in battle against each other. Mac had to win. He wouldn't be able to stand losing to his freak of a roommate and still be able to sleep at night.

Mac learned the hard way, however, that Shulk had visions of the future.

The easy way would have been actually talking to Shulk and forcing him to reveal his power. But no, Mac had spent all of his time training, and he had never even thought to talk to his roommate in order to gain a combat advantage. Unfortunately, Mac's style was obvious, and Mario had even shared the details with him, because he had told Shulk that Mac was a boxer._ Just because he's new and doesn't know who Game and Watch and R. O. B. are, _he _gets all the good tips. Thanks a lot, Mario,_ Mac thought angrily as he struggled not to telegraph his next moves too heavily.

Shulk's sword had other powers, too. As a result of those powers, he could become faster, jump higher, gain higher defenses, become more easily able to knock his opponent off of the stage, or become stronger. _How do I get around this defense thing? This is utter witchcraft_, Mac thought, noting that his jabs and punches were doing less damage than before—Shulk was surrounded by a glowing, yellow, orb-shaped shield.

Mac was losing momentum, and he still continued to struggle against his opponent. Shulk was very close to knocking him off stage. _Could I try to knock him out now and get this over with?_ Mac wondered. He wasn't sure whether or not he had the strength for a K. O. punch. He could at least try. But Shulk would predict his attack, and if Mac decided for sure to go for it, he would almost certainly get sent into oblivion. Mac had to go for a bait-and-switch method. He dodged an oncoming attack and went to punch his opponent but instead grabbed him at the last second. Shulk sailed into the air and fell back down to the exact height at which Mac could knock him out. The boxer delivered a powerful K. O. uppercut before Shulk had a chance to counter and sent him sailing off the stage. Mac had won.

Mac grinned as he exited the stage, a towel draped around his neck as sweat dripped down his forehead. He was heavily bruised, with a few open cuts on his arms where Shulk had hit pretty hard with his sword. When he entered the waiting room, he saw Doc for the first time since he had left home. Elated, he ran up to Doc and threw his arms around him. When he released Doc from his embrace, he said breathlessly, "Doc, did you see me out there?!"

"Yeah, baby, you were killin' it! Have you been training the whole time you were here?"

"Yep!"

"Man, it sure shows! Won the last two matches! Mac, baby, make sure you treat yourself to some chocolate or something. I can already see how much you deserve it."

Mac laughed, smiling. "Doc, you have no idea how much I've missed you. I've been training so much, but it's just not the same without you. It gets kinda lonely."

Doc's expression dropped and he narrowed his eyes. "Hold on a sec. I hope you haven't been training just so you can stay away from everyone else. I know how you get sometimes, but I want you to make some new friends. Not just me."

Mac looked at his shoes. There was a metallic taste in his mouth. Doc knew him too well.

"You _have_ been avoiding everyone, haven't you?"

He nodded guiltily.

"Mac, baby, you gotta make friends too. Manage your time. ...What about your roommate? You're at least friends with him, right?"

"Uh… Not really. I just won against him."

Doc laughed. "You kidding me, son."

Mac shook his head, still looking at his shoes.

"Have you even talked to him?"

Mac shook his head again.

"Mac, I can't always be there for you. Sometimes, you just gotta make the best of it. Come on. Let's both head back and I'll see you tomorrow. You try to be nice to that roommate of yours, since you done beat him up like that."

Mac sighed as they parted ways. Doc understood him too well sometimes; he could read Mac like a book. He wished that Doc hadn't figured out right away that he was being antisocial. He shouldn't have said anything about training all alone. He also didn't really want to talk to his roommate, especially after that match, so he tried his best to stay away from Shulk for the rest of the day. But there was one place where he wasn't going to be able to avoid him: their room. To continue to avoid talking to Shulk, Mac didn't go downstairs to train. Instead, he went to bed early and tried to make himself fall asleep.

He couldn't sleep, however, so he laid in bed pretending to do so, hoping that he would eventually actually doze off. He felt guilty about the way in which he had won the match. Normally, he would have no remorse over tricking his opponent with _legal_ moves, but something about taking advantage of Shulk, who seemed like he had just been trying to be friends with Mac, was unfair. But of course, as he had told himself earlier, it had just been a ruse to soften him up in battle, and it wasn't going to work on him. When Shulk came in, Mac stayed silent. Shulk did not look over; he, already clad in pajama pants, simply climbed up the ladder and slid under the covers.

There was absolute silence for about three minutes before Mac knew that he wasn't going to be able to stand the tension. "Shulk?" he blurted.

"A-ah? What? What's going on?" he said, startled. Mac wondered how someone who claimed to be a light sleeper always fell asleep so quickly.

"...How old are you?" Mac immediately regretted asking such a random question, but it was the first one that came to mind, and he thought that saying "sorry" might have ended up continuing the awkwardness.

"Oh, I'm eighteen," he said. "Yourself?"

"Seventeen. What friends and family do you have back home?"

Shulk was silent for a minute, then mumbled, "I don't know why I should tell you, but I have no living family members. My parents died when I was four."

Mac said nothing. He only mentally cursed his accidental lack of tact. He had just started talking to the guy and had already screwed up. _But how was I supposed to know he was an orphan?_ he thought angrily.

Before Mac could offer his sympathy, Shulk quickly said, "But I was raised by my foster father, Dickson, from that age, and I've got friends who are like family to me. How about you?"

Mac quietly said, "Doc's my best friend, and he's like a father to me."

"You, too..." Shulk whispered.

"No, they're still alive. But Doc's got legal custody of me. I hardly ever see them anymore. I don't mind it."

"I'm sorry. You got any other friends?"

"I used to go to school, and I guess I had a few friends there, but I dropped out to focus on boxing. I didn't really like it anyways. It was kind of boring. Mostly I just sat in class and thought about what I was going to do in training that afternoon."

"We've got school, too. But we don't have to go for such a long time, and we learn most of what we need around the colony and from our elders. It helps that we have a pretty good library in town as well. Dickson's taught me a lot, and so has Dunban. He's Dickson's best friend, and his sister, Fiora, is one of my best friends."

"How long do you go to school?"

"'Till we're fourteen."

"That's a short time." Mac paused, staring at the wall. Life in Shulk's world sounded pretty normal, even though some things were different—for example, Shulk's special ability. Mac decided to ask what had been on his mind since the fight. "Were you always able to see the future like that?"

"It's the Monado," Shulk replied.

"Monado?"

"My sword. But I think it also has to do with me. It used to be Dunban's, but it's so powerful that it caused him to lose the use of his dominant arm. Dunban never had any visions, but as soon as I picked up the Monado, I immediately had a vision."

"That's interesting. How does it work? Those special powers you used during the fight, I mean?"

"I'll show you," Shulk climbed down the ladder and opened the closet. He returned with the huge sword tucked under his arm and held it out in his hands for Mac to look at. Mac observed its smooth red contours, blue lights pulsing like blood in arteries around the circle. "In the center, where you see the symbols—those can be changed at will and allow me to use new arts. For example, the blue color you see is Monado Speed, which helps in avoiding enemies' attacks." Suddenly, Shulk quickly returned the sword to his closet. "Get back!" he said, pushing Mac toward the other side of the room. Each slid into their beds.

"What's wrong?" Mac asked.

"Vision," Shulk responded shortly. "Close your eyes. Mario's checking the rooms to see that we're here. If we're not in bed, we get punished."

"That hasn't happened on any other night."

"Well, that's because you were up until two-thirty. Now he wants to make sure we're all in bed at the right time. You missed the announcement this morning." Shulk laughed.

"How do you know it was _my_ fault that it's being enforced?"

"Shh!"

Sure enough, Mario opened the door. He looked in quickly to check that Shulk and Mac were both in bed, then he closed the door. When he was gone, Mac whispered, "Hey."

"What?"

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you the first few days. Truth is, I'm no people person, and I'm used to having Doc around all the time. I tell him everything. But I'll try to be friendlier anyways."

"I can understand that. Don't be afraid to confide in me, though."

"Will do. G'night."

"Good night. See you in the morning." Mac laid there for a couple minutes before closing his eyes, thinking about how his roommate had trusted him enough to tell him some of the secrets of the Monado. He certainly wasn't trying to trick him, nor was he suspicious of Mac at all. Doc was right—Mac had been the one at fault. He was embarrassed of that fact, but he resolved to come to mealtimes at the normal time and try to socialize. And he was going to try to be a friend to Shulk and be welcoming to him.


End file.
